I refuse to fall in love with the idea of who you can be if I were to nip and tuck and patch and sew you into someone else. If I were to throw a blanket over the baggage in your ribcage, only focusing on the prettiest parts of you. I refuse to love you in halves.
Where is the place that surges beyond love? I will meet you there.
Suddenly, love was mornings spent laughing until I cried. It was having someone make time for me. Love was airport gates, until it turned into “I am moving across the country to be with you.”
We don’t need space because we want to break up, or because we don’t want to spend time with you. We need space because that is how we nourish ourselves, that is how we feed our souls.
You stopped loving them the way they deserved to be loved; you stopped fighting for them the way they needed to be fought for.
I want to be your best when you are not your best.
I am going to risk my heart for you, and I am not going to be afraid.
When you kissed me you became,
the echo of my words,
the tangle in my voice.
I will not spend another slaughtered night trying to figure out if life is treating you well, or if the sun sets beautifully where you happen to rest your head.
I will devour you with my eyes.
You are vivid.
You are bright.